The Wombat's Wife
by PeechTao
Summary: FINISHED! Chase becomes mysteriously ill, then suddenly well again before he tries to jump off a roof. Full of almonds, Chase's wife, House catching the cold, and a possible epidemic that gets cuddy's britches in a bunch!
1. Prelude

UPDATE: Last paragraph has been adjusted over some confusion. So I expanded it a bit so I hope it helps!

First try at a House fic, hope you like! lot of research went into this, so if something is wrong, SORRY!

**The Wombat's Wife**

**Chapter 1 -Prelude-**

House grabbed his leather jacket and the keys to his bike from the office. He had been tricked into clinic duty for nearly five hours, and he was far beyond the point of sticking around just to annoy others. Cuddy was truly just jumping on the chance to give him work with the diagnostic department void of patients. Not that it was his fault life threatening diseases weren't striking the population.

He turned to leave, happening to glance into the next room. His lair as it were. To his surprise, Robert Chase was there. He was sitting in nearly total darkness, tracing a finger around his home coffee mug. This was a odd shape, and even behavior, for Houses's little Australian boy. He just had to meddle in it.

Greg pushed the door open with no real gentleness saying, "I knew it! I always knew it!"

Chase opened his apparently close eyes. "What?" he asked almost sleepily.

"I knew you were a vampire." House replied.

Robert rolled his eyes and lifted his cup to drink, but spit it back just as quickly. He had been sitting so long it had turned ice cold.

House looked at him with a scrutinizing glare. "What's wrong? Cuddy send you to time out for being a bad little boy?"

Chase stood. "I have a headache." He said, hoping that would end the conversation. He threw his old coffee down the sink and poured a new cup.

"So you've withdrawn from clinic duty to become a caveman." House flipped the lights on with his cane. "Groovy, Freddy."

"I had the lights out because they were bothering my eyes– look, why do you even care right now? I'm just going to take an aspirin, wait for it to work, go home, and be back tomorrow for your pleasant personality." He added a smile for emphasis.

House had stopped listening to him after the first sentence. He was observing Chase and that led him to notice a thick sheen of sweat across his rosy forehead. "You have a fever." he spoke.

Robert shrugged. "Fine, I may have a cold. I'm going home, all right?"

House nodded. He turned and walked out, partially satisfied. All he had left to do now was dodge Cuddy until he reached the parking garage. Let the games begin!

Chase watched him go as he sat back down to finish his new coffee. He opened the bottle of pain reliever in the cabinet and swallowed a pair of pills down with his drink. Before he had a chance to grab his bag to leave, he felt his arms begin to shake. He dropped to the floor, spilling the pills and coffee across the counter. He continued to fight with seizure for excruciating minutes before finally stopping. He lay there, completely unconscious on the verge of a night full of seizures. The exertion of his body was so great throughout the course of time, the lack of oxygen from his lungs closing due to the convulsions, when he had attempted to rise, he found himself unable. So, he lay there as the sickness racked through him, remembering the previous moments with little more then the memory of a goldfish. Before he knew it, day had broke.

:-:-:

Now, review!

Next Time: Chapter 2- Anaphylaxis-


	2. Anaphylaxis

Wow, this has got to be one of my top feedback books ever! I know there was a lot of confusion with the last paragraph of chapter one, so I'm hoping posting chapter 2 early will help ease it. I tried to respond to each e-mail personally but with so many coming and and that two-minute lag window I may have missed a few. If I did SORRY! It was completely unintetional!

I did have one continuity error as far as my auther personal page. It said this book was completed, which it is, it just is not completely _posted. _Everything is finished being written, I will just be posting about once a week a new chapter which is normal for my books. Any more problems, feel free to tell me! I'm very open to changing things around and explaining confusing concepts.

Now . . .On with the show!

Chapter 2 -Anaphylaxis-

House walked into his office early (for once) the next morning. He was eager to find out if any new cases had come in, yet his eagerness also proved a fault. None of his little ducklings were in yet. He grimaced and checked his desk for any new files or charts but only found a note from Cuddy with schedules of everyone's clinic duty. He balled it up and threw it in the trash before heading into the next room to raid the snack cabinets in hopes of satisfying his sweet tooth. He had just stepped a few feet into the room when he saw the wreckage.

Chase was stretched in contorted angles like a mannequin. His body was saturated in sweat and some muscles twitched with exertion.

"Chase!" House exclaimed unexpectedly. He went down beside the man and checked for a pulse. To his further surprise he found none. _Chase felt dead_. His circulation was nearly nonexistent, breathing unnoticeable . . . House turned him gently over to begin artificial respiration when Chase suddenly jolted to life. He grabbed his boss's arm in a crushing embrace.

"Epinephrine!" He breathed, shock having long set in, "Epin . . ." he shuttered and fainted back.

House reached blindly up into a drawer. He checked to be sure he had the right vial before jamming the needle into Chase's side. In a jolt, he woke again.

"Ho . . .House? How did I get here?" He sat up and looked around curiously.

The diagnostician noticed the pills lying about in puddles of cold coffee. "Let me guess, either a really big headache, or you just can't stand to live any longer."

Chase glared at him. "I'm a doctor, I did not overdose on acetaminophen."

House popped a Vicodin in his mouth. "Why not? All the fun kids are doing it these days."

Chase began to stand. "Well, I didn't It must have been an allergic reaction."

House stood twice as quickly. He noted Chase's struggle toward coordination of hands and legs then standing up right and finally had enough of it. He placed an arm under the other's and sat him in a chair. Greg then turned and began writing on the white board.

HEADACHE

FEVER

SWEATING

UNCONSCIOUSNESS

He finished then looked at Chase. "Looks like we've got a case."

"No we don't." Robert protested. "I'm fine, just sick. That doesn't mean you can cross analyze me on a microscope slide." He cursed slightly in annoyance and tapped a finger against his tongue which was throbbing. He could taste a slight metallic, bitter taste in his mouth and assumed blood was the culprit.

House grabbed his face by the cheeks with one hand.

"What are you–"

"Shut up and open your mouth." House commanded. He looked in to find a deep arcing cut on the top and bottom of his tongue. He let go of the man and wrote on the white board:

SEIZURES

"Seizures?" Chase exclaimed.

"You have a bite mark across your tongue," House replied, glancing over the board with scrutiny. "Coincides with seizure patients. Lucky you didn't swallow it instead. Care to diagnose yourself?"

"Anaphylaxis." he instantly said, "I had a very bad reaction to a type of aspirin. So sorry I didn't notice it before." He moved to stand and leave. To where, he was not sure, just away from Greg was good enough.

"The headache and fever don't fit, timing is off. So, try again."

Chase looked at him longingly. "Oh, come on! I took the medication for a preexisting illness. I took the aspirin, had a reaction, got rid of my headache, but gave me a seizure and nearly killed me. Epinephrine solved it all. Amazing! House, you've cured me!" He picked his coffee cup up and rinsed it out in the sink. Then taking some napkins he cleaned up the floor and counter. He seemed to be doing well enough, so House relaxed mildly.

The door opened and Cameron walked in with Foreman. Taking a glance at the board the two sat down with excitement.

"Great, we have a case?" she asked.

"No–" "Yes–"

Greg and Robert exchanged daggered glances.

"I take it that's a yes?" Foreman stated carefully, looking betwixt them. "What did we miss?"

"Nothing." Chase spoke before House had a chance to. "I had a severe reaction from some cold pills. Look at me, I'm fine. So don't trust anything House tells you." He picked up his bag and readied to leave.

"How severe?' Camron retorted in worry.

House banged the white board with his cane. "It's not here for the Fung Shui!" he looked at Chase who was making for the door. "Where are you going, Wombat?"

"Home. I need a shower and some new clothes. I'll be back later." he walked out.

:-:-:

Next time: Chapter 3 -Delusions and Hallucinations-


	3. Dilusional

**new update! i received an anonymous review this morning which I would have replied to by . . .annonymous . . .so, here it is: I'm unsure why Chase is referred toas wombat all the time. This is my first house fic, and i noticed it was a trend, so I followed the flow. 2 about the mum thing, I too am australian and I cringe to write wholly American but the last time I defferred i was crucified by my reviewers who didn't understand a bloody word. ah, those horrid past memories . . . . anyhow, in my strive to write perfectly I had accidentally forgot this point about Chase and so the error was made. It has now been corrected, thanks for the imput!**

Oh My Sweet Good Stars . . .the reviews that have overpopulated me! I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with many about their reviews. I usually like to at least say thanks or something of the like. I don't like copy and pasting the same message either into each browser window every two minutes, because I feel that impersonal and a lack of genious. however my solution seems to shriek of the same. I then give a big, official shout out of THANK YE ALL MATES! to my reviewers. I will respond personnally if certain need arises, like questions, comments, and a moving review that makes me tip off the old rocker.

WARNING! nothing here has been edited yet. in a rush to post in and try to go a little quicker then my only one-post-per-week (which is the bane of at least one particular reader)i have not re-read, bet-read, or even read allowed the following content. so, with that, continue and be awed at the distracting errors!

Chapter 3 -Dilusional-

The day progressed slowly after that. Each person split off to their clinic duty as did Chase when he returned a couple hours later. Upon further thought, House wished he could tell chase to just stay home for the day, but he wanted to watch the wombat. Something about it all just did not fit and that made him uneasy. So, for a worthy excuse of dodging work, he made a point to follow Chase around in between useless cases of granny flatulation and children with a cough that was sworn to be brought on by the spawn of Satan and transfixed into pneumonia. Chase, in returned, completely ignored him.

At the end of the day, House retreated to his desk to split a cold pizza and stale root beer with Wilson.

"So," House began again, "There's a priest, a rabbi, and a–"

"Mum?"

House looked up and Wilson turned to the person who just came in. It was Chase.

"I was going for a more Klu-Klux-Klan idea." House retorted, but Chase wasn't listening. He looked around the office, then the meeting room, then came back out with a troubled expression.

"Looking for something?" Wilson asked.

Chase nodded absent mindedly. "Yeah, my mum. I could have sworn she said she'd be here."

Greg stood slowly, motioning for Wilson to do the same. "Chase, your mother is dead. She's been dead for years now." he carefully uttered, "Why don't you sit–"

"I bet she's upstairs in bed. This time of night she should be." he continued as if not hearing House at all.

Wilson now understood his colleagues cautious movements. "Robert, I need you to listen, all right?" He and House split off, trying to trap him in the office. "Why don't you sit and have some dinner, huh?"

"No, no," Chase told him, walking to the door. "Have to find her."

House and Wilson leapt on him at the same time. Chase jostled them off easily and ran out. He raced to the end of the hall and into an elevator.

Wilson had followed closely behind him, but not close enough to grab him.

"Start up the stairs!" House called to him, hurrying closer, "I'll tell you where it stops!"

Wilson bolted up the stairwell. House in turn accessed the next elevator so when Chase's stopped, he could reach the scene also. The elevator continued to climb, higher and higher until House could already guess where it headed. He jammed the stairway door open and yelled up to Wilson, "He's on the roof!"

House then got into his own waiting elevator and took off to meet them. He tapped his cane impatiently as the beeps of passing floors echoed by. When the doors opened he noticed at first a bargaining, pleading, bleeding, Wilson, then Chase, death defyingly close to the roof's edge.

"Chase you're delusional." Wilson said, blood leaking from a sucker punch above his eye. "Now listen to me. You are not at home, you are at a hospital."

"She told me she'd be here." Chase replied, his face full of hurt, "She always lies, why can't she stop?"

"Robert Chase," House now spoke, trying to get closer but walking carefully and painstakingly slow. "It's House, we found her. She's downstairs waiting to see you."

Chase shook his head. "No, no, she's never there." He took a few steps back, hovering dangerously over the edge. Wilson began to turn white in fear.

House had come close enough now to reach out and grab his arm. He pulled Chase away from the edge and struggled to wrestle him down. Wilson raced forward to help but before he reached them, Chase had landed a heavy kick to the side of House's bad leg. The doctor crumbled back in intense pain as Chase leapt off the hospital roof.

"No!" Wilson grabbed the back of Robert's white lab coat in mid air. The force he exerted swung Chase back against the hospital wall, almost dragging Wilson over with him. Recognition snapped Chase's senses back as he reached up to the roof's edge with white-knuckled fingers. It was a tug-a-war the doctors versus gravity and the former were losing. The lab coat's seems began to rend in two.

"Greg!" Wilson exclaimed over his shoulder, "House, I need you!"

House army crawled forward, wincing as the pounding pain overtook him. He promised to give Chase the mother of all Charlie horses when this was over. He sat up on one knee and grabbed one of Chase's arms.

The patient looked at him with the fear of death. "Please don't let me die."

House and Wilson pulled Robert up. He spilled over the roof top, between his rescuers as each laid down a moment to collect themselves.

"How did I get here?" Chase asked.

"You were delusional, or hallucinating." Wilson told him, "You went looking for your mom and jumped off the roof." He sat up and looked over at House who was pale and tragic in appearance. "House are you all right?"

Greg closed his eyes, hands unconsciously holding his leg. "Left my pills in the office. I didn't expect the kangaroo to kick me."

"Do you need some help?" Wilson asked. He hadn't seen House this bad in years.

Wilson knew House was unwell when the doctor actually agreed.

When they reached the office, Cameron and Foreman were there waiting with the door open. They had seen the three struggling by the glass walls and concern was obvious.

"Is he okey?" Cameron quickly inquired of House.

"He will be, just get the chair closer and find his pills." Wilson instructed.

Foreman drug the chair over and House fell from Wilson and Chase's shoulders into it. Too tired and pained to care any further of looking weak or not. He head lolled back, only supported from falling right off with the chair's high back. He let his hand rest outstretched and open for the coming Viocodin parade. When it was taking too long he shook his hand.

"Come on, Cameron, what's a guy got to do for a fix?" he exclaimed.

She opened a drawer and found them and dropped the bottle in his hands. As he chugged the pills down, Foreman was extracting information from Wilson.

"Chase had another spell. He became dazed and delusional, led us on a wild ride up to the roof. Then, when we tried to get the crazy guy down, he kicked House and jumped off!"

Cameron's jaw sagged open as Foreman nearly staggered in shock. Chase just turned an embarrassed red.

"Foreman." House spoke up after taking a moment to gather himself. "You run a CT scan and blood work. Cameron, admit Chase to a room and strap him down with ten milligrams of hadol."

"I don't need to be strapped down!" Chase protested. 'This was all probably part of the anaphylaxis earlier. So I over-exerted myself . . ."

"Make that twenty. He needs to find his happy land." House corrected. "He's still delusional too. And make those straps double tight now." He smiled. "Look at it this way, you get to relive your dominatrix days, you sexy doctor you!"

Robert rolled his eyes and stormed out with the two colleagues behind him.

Wilson sat now. "So what do you think he has?"

House was silent at first. He twirled his cane in his hands, staring at the white board in the adjacent room, still displaying Chase's earlier symptoms. 'He had a headache yesterday. And a fever with sweats. Last night he was having seizures. Then he jumps off the roof after his head mom. Just about twenty four hours."

Wilson looked at him sincerely. "His symptoms are rapidly progressing."

House nodded and tried standing now that the Vicodin was kicking in. "At this rate, if the disease is bad enough, he could be dead in a couple days."

Wilson drew in a long breath. "Again, any diagnostic ideas?"

House picked up the bottle of non-aspirin Chase left on the desk from that morning. "Give him a couple of these, see if its an allergic reaction." he smiled devilishly and headed out.

:-:-;

Thanks for reading! Please review too! No flames now . .. . .I know your thinking about it!

Next Time: Chapter 4 -The Wombat's Wife-


	4. The Wombat's Wife

oh my gosh, the reviews i have! you really do love me! I have never had a hit this big, and to tell the truth, it is nerve racking! I acually care about opinions, and with ten to twelve more each chapter, it is hard goings!Thanks to all those reviewers though, you keep me alive!

Chapter 4 -The Wombat's Wife-

Greg House stepped into Chase's room as Allison was finishing tying his arms down. The superior doctor handed the patient two unlabeled pills and a glass of water.

"Take these." he more commanded then anything else.

"What are they?" Chase fired back.

"Antihistamine." House lied without missing a beat.

The Australian looked skeptical then indicated the straps over his arms. House in turn opened Chase's mouth and shoved them down his throat. With no water. When they were successfully down, House held up his wrist watch and stared at the twitching hands.

"What was that for!" Chase screamed angrily. He could see House counting the time down and could only think the worst. "Oh Hou . . ., what did you give me?"

House shook the bottle in his hands and tossed it on Chase's stomach. "Non-Aspirin. Great for headaches, but not so much for psychos."

Chase was furious and dramatically terrified all at once. "But–I had a reaction . . ."

House let his watch down. "You are officially not allergic to the pills. That puts seizures and unconsciousness back on the board. You are having an allergy attack, to what we have to find out. Now, do I have to break into your house, or are you giving me the keys?"

"My house?'

"Break the door in? Ok!" Greg turned to leave, but Chase called him back and told him where the keys were.

"I'll go with him." Allison reassured, taking off her apron and following House out.

:-:-:

"I'm so excited to see what choir-boy has hidden away in this place." House smiled like an over-zealous child torturing a frog.

Allison rolled her eyes. "Let's just get this over with."

"Kill joy." House opened the front door.

"Baby." She shot back, walking in behind him. They dispersed across the small apartment. Cameron checked the kitchen for mold or decaying food while House headed into the bedroom. Half way he was met by a towel-clad woman emerging from the bathroom. She let out a surprised cry and tried to slam the door shut but House stuck his cane into the jam to keep it open.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"Jennifer Love Hewitt, now get out!" She tired to slam the door again, but House prevented it.

"Can't be." he said, almost casually, "Your boobs are too small. Now I'll ask again, why are you in Robert Chase's apartment?"

"Robby," she corrected, "Is my husband, not that it matters to you. And you are?"

"His boss."

"Good, the you tell me why he never came home last night. First, though, get your little cripple cane out of my way so I can put some clothes on!"

House stepped back and headed to the bedroom while she disappeared into the bathroom.

"Nothing in the kitchen!" Cameron called, moving to the living room.

House turned over the covers on the bed but found nothing out of the ordinary. No peculiar trinkets either, like a Barbie or abs lounge, that he could rag on Chase latter about.

"Can I ask what it is you are looking for?" Chase's wife asked, walking in on his search of her underwear size.

"Sure, if I'm aloud to ask if these are really Chase's." he retorted, flinging a pair of pink lace panties onto the bed.

Cameron walked in as the wife nearly blew her top. "Who's this?" she asked curiously.

"Meet Mrs. Wombat." House replied without looking up from his prying of the rest of the dresser. With finality he closed them. "Nothing."

The three moved into the living room. House went to the fridge as Allison and the wife sat.

"My name is Katherine." She told Cameron, watching House intently.

"I'm Cameron. I'm one of the doctors that works with Chase." the said woman explained. "He came down with a severe allergic reaction, we just aren't sure to what yet." She looked at House who was rummaging about. "I already looked in there."

House popped up, eating a handful of almonds. "I was hungry. All this prying into my underling's life has worn me out."

"Is Robby all right?" Katherine interrupted. "He did seem sick this morning. But I thought that was something you did by not letting him come home."

House hissed at her as if to bear some invisible fangs.

It was Cameron who returned civil conversation. "Has he eaten anything different? Been around pesticides or anything new?"

Kate shook her head. "No, we had spaghetti the other night and we always have that."

"Did the sauce taste different?"

"No it was brand new."

"Mexico."

The two women turned around to look at House who had made the odd comment.

He came forward and took a poste card off the wall. "When was the trip?"

Kate shrugged. "A couple weeks ago. Our honeymoon, though delayed about six months. We spent the weekend. Do you think he picked up something?"

House didn't reply, just kept his mind spinning. "Let's go." He replied curtly, opening the door and walking out.

Allison patted the Kate's hand. "Dr. House may seem rash, and arrogant, and egotistic, and he is in fact all of those actually. But he is the best at what he does. He'll figure anything out and he hasn't been wrong yet."

Kate offered a concerned smile. She was still very uneasy about how the two were acting, as if to mask thee severity of the illness. "I'll follow in my car. I want to see him. He's never been forward you see. He'll try as hard as he can to prove he's fine."

:-:-:-:

Chase rolled over and buried his face in the waste basket again, his body wrenching as he threw up. Foreman turned his face away and curled his nose at the acidic smell, but continued to hold the bucket and chase's semi-long hair back. When he was finished, Chase rolled back on his pillow, visibly drained.

"The blood tests didn't show anything?" chase asked in remorse.

"No." Foreman said, dropping the can and wiping Chase's face off.

"Could you at least untie me?"

"NO!" Foreman instantly shot out. "A second ago you chased me around with a syringe screaming I needed a nose job."

"I didn't hurt anyone."

"Before that you thought you were at Ayers Rock as an Aboriginal folk singer hunting a wallaby."

"Again I didn't hurt–"

"Before that," Foreman pressed eagerly, "you were the Crocodile Hunter wrangling a rapid camel."

"All right!" Chase exclaimed, "I get the bloody point." He was half way through a sigh when his stomach turned again. He was instantly whirled over the side of the bed and throwing up in the can.

Cameron walked in with Katherine behind her. The latter raced to Chase immediately while Foreman and Allison left to the conference room. House was there already with Wilson and Cuddy, writing down the newest symptoms in a preliminary talk that brought everyone up to speed with who the new wife hanging about was. The white board now read:

HEADACHE  
FEVER  
SWEATING  
UNCONSCIOUSNESS  
SEIZURE  
DELUSIONS  
VOMITING/NAUSEA

"So," House began when everyone was settled. "Chase happened to spend some rousing nights in the disease capital of Mexico. Whatever could he have?"

"Malaria?" Wilson pipped up. "It accounts for almost all of the symptoms."

"That fast though?" Cuddy put in.

House wrote it down. "Mosquito bits dingo. What else?"

Foreman folded his hands. "I hate to be the one to say it, but maybe even typhus."

House's eyes widened. "Ooh, an epidemic. I like it! Recheck the blood work for the new symptoms and do a urine sample for the malaria."

The two younger doctors left, leaving Wilson, House, and Cuddy.

"They should check for a rash too. Usually that's where malaria starts." Wilson spoke, thinking. "Sure it doesn't present all the time, but it may lead somewhere."

Cuddy sighed. 'If it is typhus, we have a huge problem. Everyone he's come in contact with, the staff, the patients . . .I am going to have the CDC all over the place."

House nodded, continuing to stare at the symptoms. Seizures did not really fit, no matter how you simplified or stuffed it. During his minutes of silence where he retreated to his desk and submerged into his mind, cuddy and Wilson had left. Kate showed up with some dinner, a thank you and a tower of bad coffee, but when House realized he hadn't really eaten much during the day he put up with it. He had to figure this out. At this rate, Chase probably only had a couple days left to live.

:-:-:-:

Well, how was it? remember, no flames, I own not House, and . . . and . . . there was an and (thinks) I forgot. Just review!

next time: Chapter 5-Epidemic-  
hits-to-date: 1600 (astronomical!)


	5. Epidemic

All right, this is where I began to defer from my medical notes. So if you med blokes out there find something amiss, sorry with sincerity. Oh, and you will most certainly hate me. I say no more.

Chapter 5 -Epidemic-

It was well into the third day of Chase's illness and his symptoms were growing worse, as House had predicted. His fever was at a steady 103, his headache was searing, seizures controlled by medication, delusions constant and more abstract (if such could be possible), and to top most, stomach pains materialized. They were sharp and crippling. He was constantly doubled over, rocking back and forth to try and soothe the pain.

The malaria test returned negative, but it would be another four hours before the typhus would return clear or not.

House was clearly frustrated. He sat, almost unmoved from the nights prior, rubbing his head on the end of his cane. He felt horrible. He hadn't eaten. He could not bring himself to with Chase so sick and his mind unable to find a valid explanation. Cameron was off fleeting around somewhere looking up some strange allergen than could cause stomach pain and headaches. That and freaking out about Chase being married. She seemed the only one affected by it. Probably because she had recently slept with the little "infidel" as she put it. Foreman, he was just around. Where? House didn't care. He just wasn't in the office.

"If it isn't typhus, what else is there?" Wilson asked, having stayed silent a full half hour now. He in turn had not heard more then a grunt from his friend in the whole hour he had been there. This time was no different. "House, you look like a truck flattened you thirty-three times. Go home, do whatever thing you do, and come back with a fresh mind."

"I have a headache," House finally spoke. "Don't push it."

Wilson raised an eyebrow. He had noticed his friend looking peculiar. He sat forward before House had a chance at knowing what he was up to and placed the back of his hand on House's forehead. "You're burning up!""

House checked his forehead then hurriedly grabbed a thermometer and checked his temperature. 101 and climbing. It was then a powerful, dizzying wave enveloped him and he staggered to the side, holding his cane and the table for support. "Wilson, I think it's an epidemic." He said, or tried to say. He had only reached "Wilson I . . ." before collapsing into his college's open arms. He was seizing before Wilson could even call for a crash team.

House was wheeled into Chase's room in full cardiac arrest. Cameron was pumping him full of adrenaline, Wilson was literally on top of House, hoping to push his heart into a rhythm, Foreman was bagging oxygen, and Cuddy immediately butted a nurse aside to begin prepping the paddles herself.

Chase looked over weakly, wondering what had happened.

Wilson jumped off in time for Cuddy to yell "Clear!" everyone took a half pace back then went back into position just as quickly.

"Still no pulse." Foreman announced as Wilson and Cameron worked to hook up all the monitors.

"Charging, clear!" Cuddy leaned over and shocked him again. Greg's body jolted but the monitor lines never moved to indicate life.

"Again, charging 450 . . ."

Chase sat up now on his elbow, patting Cameron's back asking, "What happened? Is he all right?"

Cameron ignored him.

"Clear!"

Still no pulse showed.

Chase tapped Cameron again, but getting no where, he laid back down. His head was becoming dizzy, his vision showed a peculiar light.

"Clear!"

Chase's body jolted. A faint thought flickered through his mind . . . Weren't they working on House?

:-:-:

House fluttered his eyes open. He had been stuck in a clean room with Chase beside him. Over him stood a fully covered Cameron. Pushing some fluid into some of his IV's

"How long?" Greg asked.

"You've been out for six hours." she replied.

"It was typhus?"

Cameron gave a sudden down cast look. "No." the word struck like a dagger. "Everything was negative."

House blinked in surprise. "What is it then?"

She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "We're not sure. We ran some more tests and . . ."

He shrugged her off. "I don't want your sympathy. If I hired you for that you'd be freaking out every time I lost my pills. I hired you to cure sick people, and I'd think your boss would be heading that list!"

"We're trying, House!" She barked back, starting to walk out. "As if Chase's coma wasn't bad enough."

"What!" House exclaimed in surprise before lying back down as a stomach pain took his breath away. He wasn't alone long. A teary-eyed Katherine soon took Cameron's place as House lay and writhe in anguish. She checked Chase first then went to House.

"They don't know what's wrong with him?" House shook his head, drenched in sweat and gasping slightly now. "They will fig– figure it out. You know? Forget them. I'll–I'll figure it out."

She nods. "I know. That's why I have to kill you too."


	6. MURDER

_All right, I edited the chapter now. i think it flows a little better, changed the end too when it was pointed out the really fickle nature of "tranfusing blood" when the "dialysis" machine is the proper procedure. so that changed. took out an extra line to that was simply repeated somewhere else. so it should read better now. Thanks for all the reviews!_

Chapter 6 –Murder-

House made to call out but she blocked his mouth, clenching his nostrils shut with her fingers. The blinds were closed already and for the first time House noticed he had been strapped down also.

With one hand Chase's black widow of a fiancé uncapped a syringe. "Cameron told me you would solve my puzzle. I can't let that happen."

House was squirming, biting, gnawing, anything to get air, but she over powered him. He tried to reach the nurse call button with his slender fingers but he was inches away. He needed air. Oh how he needed to breathe.

"You see, two months ago I caught Chase with that little loud mouthed coworker. I never said anything, how could I? But I was planning already for this. That night just sealed the deal." She unclenched her fingers from his nostrils enough for him to drawl in a breath before covering them again. She stuck the syringe into his chest. He moaned and continued to fight, but now that was only to distract her from his slight of hand—

"Arsenic is such a fitting drug. Almonds mask the taste, Chase's favorite, and coffee is useful enough for a nosey doctor like you. When we were married we signed our life insurances to each other. He was so foolish. A doctor even! Anyone in this hospital could be blamed." She pushed the plunger down.

House knew he would die. There was no way around it. But could he at least catch the killer? He began to feel the nauseous sickness, the tingling of a seizure coming. It would spell the end of him . . .

:-:-:-:

"I don't get it, nothing we've said can cause seizures or the coma. Maybe it's not an allergen. Maybe it's neurological." Cuddy said, taking House's position at the white board. "We washed them for skin allergens, we placed them in a clean room, but they are still getting worse."

"What if we have this all wrong?" Allison shook her head disdainfully. "They have something in common, what is it?"

"A patient? One House saw and brought Chase in for a consult? Lord knows he drives us up the wall with those." Foreman suggested.

"It'll take forever to search those records. Saying, that is, House even wrote it down."

:-:-:

House felt his airway growing shut with the poison. His limbs only partially obeyed as he secretly worked to loose a strap on his wrist.

Kate could tell now that he was unable to scream. She pulled her hand away and detached his now pulsating heart monitor and stuck it to Chase. She would not let the nurses interrupt her until she was sure he was nearly dead.

He twisted and finely had a hand free. He reached down with a flash of reserved strength and will and pressed the nurse call button while her back was turned. He then closed his eyes, allowing the blackness to grip his soul.

:-:-:

"Come on, people, these doctor's lives are at risk now!" Wilson shouted in frustration. "Its not anaphylaxis, it's not typhus, its not malaria, sickle cell anemia, African sleeping sickness, epilepsy, or bloody West Nile! Give me something!"

Cameron and Foreman were silent, almost defeated. It was that moment she looked down and saw it.

Cameron turned a paper report around. It was Chase's and House's blood tests. To her surprise there was a peculiar peak that was out of place. Small in House, larger in Chase. Could it possibly . . . "I think it's a toxin."

Foreman looked them over. It took a moment for him to realize the peak. It was small, but a number of toxins to that amount could cause the symptoms. "Which toxin though? It could be over a dozen. We can't just treat them all."

Cuddy pounced on the papers. "What, no toxicology?"

Allison shrugged. "It was an allergen we didn't do one."

Three beepers went off simultaneously. Instantly the doctors were off. By the time they arrived, none of them bothered with safety suits, they marched right in. A nurse was pushing adrenaline and seizure medication into House's IV. The sick doctor looked fried. He was drenched in sweat, hair plastered against his face. He eyes were outlined in red circles and he seemed to be growing distant. One nurse was trying to intibate, but his airway was so swollen it was fruitless.

Cuddy pushed her aside and did the tube herself, discarding three that were too big before getting a small enough one in.

"House?" Wilson said, trying to keep him coherent. "House look at me!"

The doctor reached up with his free hand and quickly stole a pen out of Wilson's breast pocket.

Cameron had already ushered a hysterical Katherine out the door before checking Chase.

House was rapidly crashing. Foreman prepped the paddles and brought them over. Greg manipulated the pen like a three year old. He could truly feel the poison going through his system. From snaking crawls in his arms to his heightened heart rate. His abdomen felt like it would burst from pain. But he focused on that pen, its ink leaking through the sheets to spell the word he was desperate to get across. A . . . he became dizzy . . .R . . . the world was going black . . .S . . .he held back a seizure . . . I . . .his body begins to shake . . .N . . .Forman is hovering the paddles over him . . .I . . .A last whiff of air, a last look around, a wonder if there is a heaven, the knowledge he wont make it there . . .C . . . the pen falls.

"Oh, God." Wilson gasped in horror. "Dimercaporal, now! As much as you've got!"

Foreman looked at the scrawled word. He turned and opened all the drawers, none of which containing the drug needed. He almost knew this to happen. Dimercaporal was dangerous, locked in the shelf on the wall. The keys were all the way back in the office. He picked up something, anything he could find which turned out to be a table lamp. He smashed the glass in, just enough to steal the bottle. As he injected House with twice the recommended dose, Cameron was shocking his heart, sticking the rest into Chase.

It seemed, Katherine would win.

House, despite their efforts was not coming back. Foreman had already pumped ten CC's of adrenaline into his heart along with half the bottle of Dimercaporal. Cameron was already up to five hundred volts. Any more and if he did live, they would have fried his brain. Cuddy upped the oxygen levels. When Cameron seemed to be slacking off, Wilson moved her and did the job himself.

Chase's eyes opened during the melee. "House?" he moaned. "Wombats . . ."

Cameron wiped his forehead with a cloth. "You're okay now Chase."

He looked at her and smiled with the amount of a drug cocktail he was on. "Aussie's do it better."

She nearly laughed.

"House, don't you die on me!"

Cameron turned and watched Wilson do all in his power. House was gone.

"Cameron?"

She looked back at Chase.

"Can I have a fish taco?" and he was asleep again, pleasantly resting this time.

A series of beeps reached he ears. House's heart came back weakly. The nurses were setting up mechanical parts for the dialysis machine. Chase and the older doctor would need at least thirty hours on it to take down the blood-arsenic levels.

The only question now, who poisoned them?

* * *

note: yes, I wondered for a little while why i had Kate after House instead of Cameron. There was a simple reason, but I couldn't for the life of me remember it until this morning. If she killed Cameron, the kindhearted doctor with no true enemies, it would pretty easily be determined a love affiar thing. the only reason she tried to kill House was because she knew he would figure it all out. Other then that, Chase was the main target. She was planning to kill him for the insurance money, but having him cheat too made up her mind. 


	7. Fatal Attraction

Yeah, this was going to be the second to last chapter but due to the fact i have NO time on my hands, I made it the last. I even changed the ending to make it more suspenseful. so be happy with it. ;p it is all I can do with my poor sad life. i wont tell you my details, you wouldn't believe me. but i am VERY busy.

Chapter 7 -Fatal Attraction-

The room was covered in syringes so the finding of the one containing the arsenic was near impossible. Assuming that is, the killer was dumb enough to leave the murder weapon behind.

"I'll tell Katherine that Chase is all right." Cameron disclosed, standing to reach the door.

"No!" Cuddy stopped her. "That may not be the best idea just yet."

She looked at her quizzically.

"Think about it. Lover, wife, arsenic poisoning . . . House saw something that we didn't. She was in here alone after all."

Wilson nodded. "Call security, search her purse and whatever else."

"What if she asks about it?" Cameron pressed, uneasy now.

"Lie."

Foreman stood. "You know what, I'll go. Cameron can't lie to save her life. Or her coworkers as a matter of fact."

"I can too!" she protested as he passed her and left. She folded her arms, simulating anger though she was truly happy he had taken the job.

When Foreman stepped out he was instantly pounced upon by Kate.

"Is he all right? Will he live? How is House?" she was firing at him.

Foreman did not reply to her at first, but started to walk off, heading for the security phone. "I'm sorry," Foreman finally turned and told her, as if to speak was painful for him, his eyes choked in un shed tears and emotion. "Dr. House is . . ." a pause to sob . . . "He didn't make it. As for Chase, he is slowly slipping away. We've done all we can, but whatever illness they have is just too strong. I have to get security to get up her and burn the bodies before the illness spreads. Please, I have to go." With that he disappeared into a room. The lie was perfect so long as Katherine didn't figure out hospitals haven't burned bodies since the middle ages. He figured it would help her, or whoever was really the culprit, feel at ease enough to make a slip.

He grabbed the security phone off its hook and waited for the steady buzz on the other side to subside and the operator to pick up. "Hello, this is Dr. Foreman, we have a woman down here we suspect of attempted murder, I need you to call the cops and . . ." He would have finished if Kate had not come up behind him, striking him unconscious with the butt of a gun she hid in her purse.

"Turn me in, huh?" she whispered, hanging up the phone as Foreman stirred and looked up at her, well, more down the muzzle of the weapon. She smiled. "Scream, and I'll shoot you." She muscled him up and locked an arm around his neck and guided him down the stairwell.

"You know they'll shoot you." Eric tried to reason, "Just let me go and save yourself the trouble."

"If I wanted to save myself the trouble, I would have just killed you by the phone." She reminded him, almost completely calm. "The only one who knew about me is dead, now you had to go and pry." She smiled behind him and pressed her gun closer as they thundered down the stairs. "Keep talking, negotiator, you humor me."

Foreman swallowed the lump forming in his throat. How did he know this could all turn into him with the gun against his head? Why didn't he let Cameron go out? He promised to himself, if he lived the next psychopathic wife was totally her problem! "Look, I wont say a word, I swear, just let me go, and get away. There's plenty of places for you to hide in this city. How are they going to find you?" He was lying his heart out, pouring over his words, anything to sway her.

She laughed again. They hit the ground floor landing and she fired a shot. Foreman tried to drop, thinking instantly by the tickle of blood and ring in his ears that he was dead. She dragged him back up again. "Does that convince you?" she asked.

Foreman was unsure why, but he gasped a breath. He wasn't dead. It was a graze, a scratch nothing more. There really was no reasoning with her. So why hadn't she killed him yet? Why was he still alive? And where in the bloody heck was the security officers?

Forget it. He told himself. If he was going to survive this, he would be the one who changes things. He had to make his move now, as she opened the door to the lobby so they could walk calmly out as if nothing was wrong. The door swung open heavily and he slipped out before her, slamming the door on her hand from behind. His only mistake was it was not the gun hand he had caught. To make matters worse, those doors in front of him were not exactly bullet proof. He covered his head with his hands and ran out of the way as she riddled the door with bullets. He felt something hit his chest. He stumbled over in a blind panic. The pain in his chest climbed and he passed out on the lobby floor as security hurried passed him to subdue the wife. He lay limply in the carpet, even as they onlookers gathered from their makeshift hiding places to watch the ensuing chaos.

* * *

now normally I would have left you hanging here for another week, but since I haven't had the time to update, I will now finish the book so you can't crawl all over me when the next installment isn't until next June!

* * *

It wasn't until a few days later that Chase was in touch with the world beyond fish tacos enough to be informed of what had happened. He was less then pleased at the fact of his own wife's guilt. Then to hear she had been killed in a four hour police shoot out was more then he could bare. 

"But. . .how could she have done it?" He whispered to himself, staring at Foreman and Cameron.

"We ran a tox screen." Cameron told him. "Your arsenic levels were off the chart. We caught her with it in her purse. She tried to kill Foreman!" She added the last part with a snicker.

"Oh, shut up will you!" Foreman fired back. The doctors had found him, unconscious and unharmed in the lobby. Here he had thought he was shot in the chest and really the only thing that hit him was the corner of a table as he ducked for cover. It took ten minutes to convince him he was fine.

Chase rubbed his forehead. "Me, always me. Why do I attract the crazy people?"

Cameron patter his hand. She was happy. Learning that Chase was married, after the night they spent together, she had to confess to bring a slight bit jealous. Now that he was available, she felt her heart lift a little, even if it took a couple near murders and a dead wife to do it.

"What about House? He was bad off too, wasn't he?"

Cameron looked over to his still form in the bed beside Chase's. "We think he'll be ok. He was worse then you."

"Why did she go after him?"

Foreman shrugged. "Who knows, maybe to make the epidemic more plausible."

"Well, he was the one who figured it all out. Maybe –"

"You suck."

The three looked over at the sound. House had finely woken up. He took off his oxygen mask and waited a moment to gather his strength before speaking again. "I mean you, Cameron."

"Me!" she exclaimed in surprise. "What did I do!"

"You, oh praiser of my accomplishments, told psycho chick that I would figure her game out." House explained, eyes still closed. He opened them after adding, "And for playing patty-cake with Dr. Mick-Dreamy." just to see her reaction.

She stowed the last comment for now, letting her cheeks turn an inadvertent flame of red. "I didn't know she was crazy! And I didn't tell you to drink the coffee or eat the almonds either!"

"My almonds?" Chase broke in, "She poisoned my almonds? I ate like fifty of those."

"Yeah and you never wondered why she kept them in the fridge, you fruit loop!" House now shot at him.

"You, apparently, ate them too, so don't get on my back, cripple."

House moved to smack him with his cane, at the same time Chase lifted the end table clock. In mere moments however, they crumbled back down in pain.

Foreman and Cameron exchanged a hidden grin before leaving the two to their bickering.

* * *

there, the thing is over. Was it a good ending? I hope so, or else I know forty nine of the fifty of you are going to have some serious flames sent my way. 


End file.
